Let Me Out
by BlackBaby
Summary: Mal has a secret. A secret he's kept for 18 years. This secret is dangerous, dangerous to everyone Mal cares about. He can't afford to keep quiet any longer.
1. Let Me Out

_**Hey guys, just a quick note. I know my other stories have always been "dark" which they are, but I'm experimenting with new things so this story is different than other stories I've written. Please give me feedback, thanks. I'll also answer reviews.**_

_**Disclaimer: I don't own CoD ( though I wish I did), or anyone characters besides my own creations**_

_I guess you could call me a sadist. _

_I've always enjoyed pain. Whether it be my own, or someone else's it's always sent a shiver down my spine. The very idea of causing someone to suffer and scream makes my heart pound. Ever since I was little, I've enjoyed inflicting pain. I started with animals. First insects I would find in my home, and then chipmunks, squirrels, and even stray cats. By the time I reached the 7__th__ grade, I had moved on to people. People being myself. _

_I would cut myself, deep. Knock my head against my bedroom walls. Smash our furniture onto my feet. I felt the pain, badly, but I knew I loved it. On some level, I always knew that what I was doing was awful. Terrible, or disgusting if you will. But I didn't care. I couldn't care, because if I did, I would make myself stop. And I couldn't ever stop._

_When my brother found out what I was doing, he was horrified. I guess if I wasn't the one hurting myself, I would have been horrified too. But I wasn't. I made him swear not to breathe a word to anyone, and I continued my little game. I was still torturing the animals in the basement, which I called it my "dungeon", but _I _was my main priority. My brother must have thought I hated myself or something, or that I was depressed. Oh how wrong he was. What was wrong with me was far worse. When my parents would ask me why my wrist was swollen, or what were those cuts on my arms, I would tell them the dog attacked me, or I fell down the stairs. I knew it was eating my brother away to keep my secrets, but I didn't care! I had to keep inflicting the pain._

_The reason I had been hurting myself, instead of other people, was security. I knew that the second I laid a hand on any pretty little creature at my high school, they'd have me in handcuffs. The only way I knew I wouldn't get caught, was to keep this a secret between me, myself, and I. And my brother. My parents were clueless to my sick secrets, as was my older sister, and my brother knew to keep quiet. I guess on some level he knew that more harm would be done in revealing me. _

_I kept this up for 8 years, if you believe it. Killing these little animals and torturing myself. I'll never lie to myself. It felt great. I felt like I was high on drugs whenever I snapped the neck of a bird, or dropped a lamp on my foot. Of course it hurt. A lot. But it was worth it to feel that rush of adrenaline, like I was flying!_

_I guess I'm telling you this, diary, because it's been far too long. Seeing it written on paper just brings me back to that wonderful feeling. They just started letting me hold pencils again, under constant supervision. Oh, please. If they won't let me torture things, I'll have to relive the glory days through you. I just hope dear brother Mal doesn't pay me a visit anytime soon._

_Love,_

_Mercedes Fallon_


	2. Let Me Love You

_**mozzi-girl- thank you for reviewing, whenever i write i always try to create new and interesting characters. i hope to continue this story and see where it goes. if you could get others to read this story i'd really be thankful**_

"_Learn from yesterday, live for today, hope for tomorrow."_

_-Anonymous _

"Right this way, Mr. Fallon. She'll be very pleased that you're here."

Mal Fallon followed a nurse down a long, white hallway. He glanced around at the carts filled with tranquilizers and medications. Being at Millbrook always gave him the creeps. The last time he had been here when he and Natara had been investigating Eric Mills' benefactor. Being in these same white halls had made him nervous then too, but that was for fear that he somehow would see…_her. _

"Right through this door. We'll need to take your service weapon and any sharp or metal objects you have in your possession." The nurse gestured to a counter top and Mal fished through his pockets. He placed his wallet, keys, and finally his gun on the desk. The nurse smiled and indicated to a door just beyond this counter. Mal took a deep breath and opened it.

He stepped into a visiting room. Patients looked up at him with bleary or red eyes, most of them probably unaware of where they even were. Mal shook his head slightly and sighed. It was depressing to think that the only way to make these people stable. That was his sister.

Finally he spotted her. "Mercedes?" He walked over to where she sat on a sofa, staring straight ahead. "Hey, Mer. It's been a while." Mal went in for a hug, but a nurse who stood nearby stopped him. "Please sir, no physical contact with our patients."

Mal nodded. "Okay, so, hey. I know I haven't been here in forever, but you know I've always meant to make it back here and just never found the time. Well actually, there was this one time but, never mind actually you probably don't care. So yeah. What's up?" Mal let out a breath he had been holding and waited. Mercedes stared straight on, barely even blinking, much less acknowledging that her brother was talking to her. Mal coughed slightly, but continued talking. Maybe if he kept talking, she'd respond.

"Yeah things are great at work. I'm a detective, for the SFPD? Remember? Yeah I've got a great partner. She's really something else. You know, I really wish I'd come back sooner, Mer. I've missed you. And I know Cynthia wishes she could make it here sometime to see you, but she's got a full time job and two kids and a husband, you know how it is, right?"

Nothing.

"And I've seen some good movies lately, I recently saw this one about a guy who's job it is to assassinate people from the future, Looper. It was really interesting."

Nothing.

"And I've been working out lately, getting into better shape."

Nothing.

"And I-"

"You really are pathetic, Mal." Mercedes stared directly at him now, her ice blue eyes piercing him. Mal's jaw dropped, and Mercedes smiled. "You didn't think I was _totally_ jacked up, did you? I mean, I'm not some kind of crazy or anything."

Mercedes leaned back on the sofa, seemingly totally normal now, as opposed to a few seconds ago when she may as well have been a statue. Mal struggled to find words to say. He had kind of gotten used to the one-sided conversation, and was startled when Mercedes started talking normally out of the blue. She spoke up again. "It's okay, big bro. You must be shocked at how exactly the same I am to the last decade you visited. You don't have to speak anymore. Just listen."

Mal breathed in, his nostrils flaring, but stayed silent. Mercedes grinned and cocked her head.

"I pretty much run this place. I get whatever I want, whenever I want, and for whatever reason I need it. The only thing they don't let me have are knives, and I guess you know why that is." Mercedes lifted the sleeve of her long hospital gown to reveal healing puncture wounds and deep scars from her wrists to her shoulder. Mal gulped.

"So yeah. All this bullshit with you "wanting to visit me" can stop. You don't have to pretend that you care about my wellbeing or think about me at all. In fact, I'm actually curious as to why you've come knocking on this crazy bin's door."

Mercedes nodded at Mal as an indication for him to speak. He cleared his throat, visibly shaken, and spoke. "You know I do love you. I thought it was time to come and-"

"Stop it, Mal."

"You want the truth? Fine. I went to see dad in prison the other day. He asked me how Cynthia was, of course, and I told him same old, like I always do. And for the first time in literally 15 years, he asked me how you were. And I told him I didn't know, because I hadn't visited you. And he demanded that I see you. So I did."

Mercedes raised an eyebrow. "And since when do you listen to _anything _dad says?"

"I don't usually, but he's right. I just needed that wakeup call."

Mercedes gave a fake smile. "Well thanks for pitying me, dear brother. Say, why not come back next week and bring this delicious partner of yours? You boning her or something?"

Mal's jaw dropped and he became visibly flushed. "I-no, I'm not _boning_ her. She's just a great partner. And _no, _I will not bring her here."

"And why not?" Mercedes crossed her arms.

"I-"

"No one knows about me, do they?" She nodded, as if she already knew the answer.

Mal ran a hand through his hair. "Look, Mer, at the time it was simpler to not bring you up, and I-"

"No you look, Mal. I exist. You know I do, I'm a living, breathing, human. So I'm fucked up in the head, it doesn't mean you can treat me like shit and pretend I'm not real. I'd suggest spilling the beans to your friends and this partner you have, or else."

Mal leaned back as if stung. Mercedes grinned , satisfied with making Mal squirm. He wouldn't be broken that easily. He leaned forward again, getting right in her face. "Or what?"

Mercedes leaned forward as well, their faces now just centimeters apart. She smiled, showing of two rows of perfect white teeth. "Bad. Things," She whispered. Her and Mal stayed like that for an endless moment, before Mercedes shrieked at the top of her lungs and flipped over a table, sending playing cards flying everywhere. Several doctors and nurses rushed over to detain her, but she kept screaming and screeching, thrashing wildly. Mal jumped back and looked on at his sister. Doctors carried her away, and as she continued to thrash and scream, she looked up at Mal and gave him a sinister little grin. Ma's heart was beating out of control, and his pulse running wild. What did she mean, _bad things_? Was that a threat? As Mal collected his personal items and slowly made his way to his car parked outside Millbrook, he comprehended what had just happened. His little sister had threatened him. There was no doubt about that. As for what it had actually meant, he would just have to wait. And wait. Who knows how long?


End file.
